Countdown Kisses
by ConstructiveRomance
Summary: "Well - well, I just.. I just never really thought we'd kiss and if we did I thought it would - I don't know, I thought it would be a big deal."


**Countdown Kisses**

There was something about New Years Eve that made her friends complain endlessly about every little thing. Hermione knew that although they claimed to have no expectations for the night - 'it's always a letdown, what's even the point?' - they secretly had high hopes for the year that followed and wanted to start it on the right foot.

Hermione had been trying to persuade Ginny to be optimistic with these very facts, but the other woman was having a hard time listening. Once upon a time, Hermione would have scoffed at the idea of her spending an afternoon flitting from shop to shop, searching for the perfect outfit for a party. Time changed things, she supposed.

It would never be her favourite activity, but she was glad for the time alone with one of her best friends, and it didn't hurt that by the end of it she would have something she felt confident in - beautiful, even. Hermione loved that feeling, treasured it after so many years of feeling like the frizzy-haired, buck-toothed loser.

That said, she was only human. They were now on their tenth shop of the day, six hours in. Hermione had bought her outfit at the third shop. She let out another long suffering sigh from her seat outside Ginny's dressing room, taking small sips of her soft drink.

"Hermione?" She called out, snapping the witch to attention.

"Yes, Gin? Do you need my help with something?"

There was another bit of rustling, grunting, "No, I think I have it. Shit, this is tight as hell. Thank you for being patient."

Hermione rolled her eyes, secure in the knowledge her friend couldn't see. Ginny's door swung open and she held her arms open in showmanship, "What do you think?"

At 24 years old, Ginny was still the knockout she was in school. Her pale skin with rosy cheeks, framed by thick, red, _straight_ hair and enviable figure were all something Hermione once coveted. Now, she was only happy for her friend. However, as she tilted her head and scrutinised the tight dress Ginny sported, bright yellow with black lining around the edges, Hermione had to admit that some clothes didn't suit even Ginny Weasley.

She shook her head minutely, ignoring the annoyed huff Ginny let out as she went back into the dressing room.

Hermione glanced at her watch and sighed.

There was good reason for them to be this picky; it was the first party Ginny was throwing with her boyfriend in their new flat. The relationship was somewhat of a whirlwind, having only began eight months ago, but Ginny swore up and down he was 'the one' and plunged into it head first. Her brothers were less enthusiastic, a fact which caused quite a bit of anxiety for the couple ahead of their big party.

No matter how much she downplayed the significance of New Years, even trying to placate Ginny by saying her expectations were super low, Hermione couldn't calm the girl. She had nothing to worry about, of course. The Weasley brothers were old enough to behave themselves around boyfriends these days, and she was sure Ginny wouldn't even know how to begin to throw a bad party. Hermione was reluctant to admit that during the brief time they lived together, she'd enjoyed many weekends singing loudly to bad songs at odd hours.

It helped that they now both had a healthy appreciation for each others music - muggle and wizarding.

"This one?" Ginny asked, exiting and twirling slowly in front of her. This was stunning, and exactly the kind of dress she should be going for. It was tight against her chest with two spaghetti straps but kicked out at the end, and Hermione beckoned her forward and memorised 'Skater Dress' from the tag for future reference. It was deep green, complementing Ginny's hair beautifully.

The colour would never fail to remind Hermione of her best friend and she couldn't help but smile widely, "Beautiful, Gin."

She beamed, and Hermione couldn't help but sigh in relief that it was finally over.

From inside the dressing room, Ginny piped up, "Thanks for being so patient, you know it would be impossible to get any of the boys or Luna to do this for me."

Hermione laughed, "Luna absolutely would, but you'd probably end up wearing a pink tutu."

"She is fond of those," Ginny responded, humour lacing her tone. "I'm a bit worried about it all. You'll still come over early, right? Say hello to Mum and Dad before they leave and the real party starts?"

She nodded, and then realised her friend couldn't see. Smartest witch of her age, eh? "Of course, that's no problem. Honestly, Ginny, if I were you I'd be more worried about cooking for your family than anything else."

Ginny breezed out of the dressing room, and immediately stuck her tongue out at Hermione, "You're one to talk. 'Harry, I know this is terribly rude of me, but what are the chances you'd help cook dinner for my parents when they come over?'" Ginny did a very unflattering impression of her, fluttering her eyelashes madly and raising her voice to be breathy.

She slapped her friend lightly on the arm, "It went literally _nothing _like that. What are you going to cook, anyway?"

Ginny threw her a grin as she moved forward in the queue to pay, "Oh, I'm not cooking. I took a page from your book."

"Harry is cooking?" Hermione asked in surprise. She was sure he would have mentioned it at lunch yesterday, they had discussed the new years plans in detail.

"Oh, Merlin no, not everything is about Harry, Hermione," Hermione opened her mouth to protest that her line of thought was perfectly logical, but wisely chose to let the moment go. When Ginny was in one of her cheeky moods, it was best to mostly ignore it. "Oliver is cooking. He's quite the catch."

She smiled softly at this, genuinely pleased to hear the adoration in her friends tone, "I'm glad."

Ginny paid and they left the shop, ducking into a nearby alley so they could apparate away from muggle London. Both witches greatly preferred the clothing sold in the high street shops of London to the old, stuffy traditional attire in Wizarding Britain. If the both of them wore it, and Luna too, it wouldn't look odd amongst the wizards either. Power in numbers and all that. Hermione was rather proud of how she had shown her friends the strengths and benefits to participating in Muggle culture.

She half regretted introducing them to movies. Hermione was forced to attend one nearly every weekend by one of her friends - sometimes it was a girls evening, other nights Harry showed up and insisted they spontaneously took a trip. Ron was less endearing, usually whining all week until she eventually agreed to pay to see whatever ridiculous action movie was showing.

Hermione and Ginny walked in a comfortable silence to her friends house. She, being the excellent friend she was, had offered to help put some of the finishing touches to the flat. It meant that she lost out on some time catching up on paperwork, but it was a worthwhile sacrifice.

"Earth to Hermione," Ginny waved a hand in front of her face.

"Oh, sorry, Ginny. What did you say?"

She unlocked her front door, leading the way to the hall, "I aaasked," Ginny threw her keys on the small table in the hall and spun around, a mischievous look on her face, "Who are you going to kiss at midnight?"

Hermione frowned, "That's not a wizarding tradition, Ginny.."

"No," She agreed, but looked proud for some reason, "But I watched more episodes of Friends and _they_ do it so I've insisted on beginning this tradition. I'm going to make it a tradition!"

Hermione's heart sank; this added a whole new level of stress to her night. She wasn't the most outgoing of people anyway, and tended to seek her closest friends out in parties and stick to them like an old plaster. This complicated things. She ran a hand through her curls, ignoring how it caught on a couple of knots, "I don't think that's necessary, Gin,"

"Nonsense! It'll spice things up. Here, help me rearrange the table and chairs so there's more room for dancing."

Hermione obliged, moving as her friend instructed, "I don't need things to be _spiced up, _Ginny. Who on earth would I kiss? Oh, this will be awful, I'll be left to my own devices as every bloody couple around me starts snogging and _god _the pity in people's eyes, I hate it, Ginny, you know I do. I already get the '25 and single' from my parents, I really don't need to feel it here… and wow, is it warm in here?"

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "You're being ridiculous. It's just a kiss between friends." She stood back to analyse the new arrangement of her furniture and then added flippantly, "Kiss Ron or Harry if it makes you feel better. A kiss between friends is fine."

She nearly exploded upon hearing that, but took a deep breath and settled for a sarcastic response, "Oh, you mean my ex-boyfriend and best friend? That's right, Gin, they're always great ideas. I'll kiss the boy who has just recently become a close friend of mine again after a disastrous relationship - or, maybe, I'll kiss the boy who has been my best friend for years and give it a go of destroying that friendship. Excellent. Really excellent."

Hermione looked up to see Ginny staring at her, amused, hip cocked with her hand resting on it, "Are you done?" Feeling drained, Hermione just nodded, "Good. You're right, might not be the best idea to kiss Ron, although you're both adults and your relationship ended two years ago so it seems silly. _How and ever, _Harry is certainly the better option - I think you could murder a puppy in front of him and it wouldn't damage your friendship."

She snorted at that. Ginny looked pleased by her reaction and took it as encouragement to continue, "Anyway, you may see some super hot bloke who steals your attention. Some Quidditch stars will be here, you know."

"_Quidditch stars?" _Hermione said with fake awe, "However will I contain myself?"

Ginny abruptly threw a cushion at her.

* * *

"I'm _coming," _Hermione shouted, exasperated, as her friends called from her living room. It didn't seem to matter how much time she allotted to getting ready, Hermione was always late. It was the strangest thing - she had never been late for work once at the Ministry in seven years and yet, every time she was due at a recreational function, her time skills fell apart.

Hermione had even started asking her friends to tell her the wrong time to combat this, but it didn't seem to matter. Tonight was running smoother than usual at least; she had showered, straightened her hair, applied light make up and was slipping into her dress. She had chosen a black wrap dress that emphasised her waist, but Hermione couldn't heed Ginny's advice to 'ditch the tights' - it was bloody December, she wasn't that masochistic.

"Hermione, come on," Ron called out, "I'm hungry."

"I don't see that as any different to usual, Ronald," Hermione shouted back, irritated. She was now rummaging through her closet for a pair of functioning shoes with a modest heel. Hermione had far too many pairs of work shoes, and haphazardly threw them out of the way as she dug through her wardrobe.

Then came the knock on the door, "Hermione?"

"Yeah, come in," Her voice was muffled with her head stuck among shoes and clothes, but she heard the door open anyway. Hermione huffed and leaned back on her heels, sitting far enough that she could spy the man who had come into her room.

Leaning against her door stood her best friend, entirely too amused by her current situation. Hermione blew a hair from her face, "What? Are you going to stand there or help, Potter?"

She was happy to see him wearing Muggle clothing, too, opting for a pair of black jeans and a dark maroon shirt. Hermione allowed herself only one onceover before she averted her eyes. Harry had always been handsome, but the years had been kinder to him than most, and his work as an auror had given him a lean, athletic build that she sometimes had to consciously concentrate on ignoring.

Friends could admit attraction, it didn't mean anything. Ron was attractive, too. Hermione could name at least half a dozen people she found attractive and didn't want to date. So, crisis averted.

Harry rolled up his sleeves, making a dramatic show of helping her, and she gulped at how inexplicably attractive that was, "What's my task?"

"Finding a shoe," Hermione responded lamely, holding up one of her flats, "This is all I can find, Ginny will kill me if I don't wear heels."

He grinned, "_Accio_ Hermione's heels."

She leaped out of the way as one pair of black pumps whizzed by her head to be caught deftly by Harry. Hermione, mortified, tried to defend herself, "I was in a rush, it's hard to think straight with all this stuff girls have to do!"

"It's okay, Hermione, we all forget we're witches sometimes," Harry said, his tone suggesting that people in fact never forgot such a detail.

She scowled at him, grabbing the shoes, "You're the worst."

He winked at her, "Or am I the best?"

Hermione was surely imagining the way her heart sped up. Why did he have to look so good when he winked? However, she didn't deign to reply to his words, choosing only to scoff disbelievingly.

She sat on her bed and began to pull on her shoes, adjusting her tights so they didn't bunch up. Harry sat next to her, chewing his lip thoughtfully and Hermione almost sighed. She knew that look too well, there was something he needed to talk about. Good, old sidekick Hermione, always good for the advice.

She looked longingly towards the door, but turned back to her friend, "Harry, what's wrong?"

His eyes widened, "What do you mean? Nothing is wrong?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, silently telling him that she wasn't buying it. "Come on, out with it, Ron is going to kill us,"

"Kill _you," _Harry amended, "And he's busy eating the crisps on your table, watching an episode of Friends. Speaking of, that's what I'm worried about to be honest,"

"Ginny's evil tradition?" Hermione asked, sympathising.

Harry eyed her for a minute before looking down at his hands, "Yeah, you know Vanessa is going to be there, right? She may have expressed some… _interest.. _In beginning that tradition with me."

Hermione almost laughed at the anxious, worried expression on her friends face. The man killed Voldemort and now hunted criminals for a living, and the most worried he ever looked was when talking about women. Instead, Hermione patted his hand, "It'll be fine, just tell her you have plans already for midnight."

"Right - right, I wanted to. I don't want to get back with her," He added hastily, "And it got me thinking, you know, that we're kind of in similar positions and that we could help each other out -"

Realisation dawned on Hermione and she held a hand up to stop his rambling, "Are you suggesting we kiss at new years?"

He smiled weakly, "Yeah? It's not a big deal, a kiss between friends. We do it all the time." Hermione had to acknowledge the truth of that. She had given platonic kisses to countless friends, sometimes by accident with a couple of drinks on, sometimes intentionally as a heartfelt goodbye. Kisses didn't always have to mean something.

The catch with this theory was that Harry and Hermione had only ever kissed on the cheek. Hermione had long ago put to bed her curiosity in her best friend, mollified with the car crash she created with her other best friend. Hermione had never allowed herself to think the kiss would end well with Harry and, well, a kiss between members of the Golden trio would always mean something. Right?

Swallowing to rid herself of the lump planted firmly her throat, she replied, "I don't know, Harry. Is that necessary?"

"Come on, Hermione," He whined, "It'll be a peck, over in seconds. I promise I've improved since making Cho cry in fifth year." Harry's expression was serious as he said that, but she could see the mischief in his eyes.

She let out a short laugh, "I should hope so." Resigning herself, and figuring that there was no real reason to say no, Hermione caved, "Ok, we'll be each others midnight kiss. But you owe me, pal!"

Harry grinned widely, "Didn't I say I'd kiss you? A kiss from the Chosen One is a pretty great gift, Hermione."

"Git," She replied, punching him in the shoulder with little force.

"Could you guys take _any _longer?" Ron asked, coming into her room. "Ginny is going to kill all of us."

The three of them stared at each other for a minute, a silent stand off in progress, before suddenly all their hands flew to their nose, "Bagsy not it!"

"Hermione," Ron sang, "I think you were last."

She began to protest when Harry tapped her knee, "He's right, sorry. Guess you're the lucky sucker to take the blame for being late."

"Only fair, really," Ron added, and Hermione pulled a face at him in response.

"Right, gentleman, let's go face the wrath of one formidable Ginny Weasley."

* * *

They were blessed that Ginny's flat was filled with her family - namely her parents - and that prevented her from doing any more than reprimanding them lightly for being late. She looked stunning in her dress, and her hair was left loosely tumbling down her shoulders having been curled for the occasion.

The remaining people in the room all chose to wear wizarding clothing, and she found herself oddly amused by the contrast of fashion. Ginny was the held of the table, her boyfriend Oliver on her right and Hermione on her left. Next to Hermione on the left hand side sat Harry, Bill, Victoire, Arthur and on the other side of the table beside Oliver was Ron, George, Percy, and his wife, Audrey. Molly sat opposite her daughter, intermittently rising to help the couple of the hour with their dinner.

Once dinner was set on the table, Ginny ordered everyone to fill their glass with wine or firewhiskey. Satisfied, she tapped her glass, "I'd like to propose a toast to my wonderful family and boyfriend. We hope you enjoy your dinner. Here's to an exciting new year with plenty to come!"

Everyone cheered, the sound of clinking glass ringing throughout the room. Hermione sipped her white wine, careful to ease herself into it as it was going to be a long night.

"This is delicious, Ginny," Ron said, taking large mouthfuls of his turkey dinner.

His sister wasn't fazed by his eating habits, but smirked slightly, "It is, isn't it? My darling, Oliver, made it."

Uh-oh, why did Ginny have to stir the pot? She knew Ron was sensitive about the age gap between his sister and Oliver, and bringing them into conversation together in this manner was never going to end well. Hermione and Harry exchanged meaningful glances, wordlessly urging the other to intervene before Ron and Ginny argued about Oliver again. Harry pursed his lips and somehow that gesture reminded her that it was her turn to distract everyone. Racking her brain, Hermione eventually blurted out, "Quidditch!"

Oliver, Ron, Ginny all turned to her with quizzical expressions. Harry was coughing, spluttering, into a napkin as he disguised his laugh.

She laughed nervously, trying to appear smooth, "How is quidditch these days, Oliver? I hear… your team… is good? You're playing well?"

Hermione did not keep up with Olivers career or the Quidditch league. She could not tell you what team he played for any sooner than she could tell you who was playing good right now. Ron was frowning at her, probably wondering what on earth she was talking about.

"I don't play Quidditch anymore, Hermione," Oliver had the good grace to be polite, "I coach the harpies, but the days of action are behind me."

"Not quite altogether behind you," Ginny rebuked with a wink.

"Yeah, at Olivers age, you can't play Quidditch anymore,"

"Ron!"

"He's not lying," Harry cut in, "But Oliver probably could have played another few years. It's best to leave on top."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Potter," The other man said, nodding with too much gusto. Hermione supposed he was thankful to have an ally in the lion's den. Since he was reintroduced to their little gang, Oliver had persisted on calling Harry 'Potter' and she wasn't entirely sure why.

Hermione had only a handful of conversations with him, usually it was in a group setting. She tried to create a friendship for the sake of Ginny, but it seemed all he was able to talk about was Quidditch, which bored Hermione to no end. She wondered briefly if that was why she was so hard to make friends with - maybe that's what people thought about her and books.

She only talked at length about books because she was socially awkward and nervous though. Hermione looked at Oliver carefully again; the same probably went for him, he had to have substance if Ginny loved him. Ginny didn't throw the word 'love' around casually like other friends.

Luna fell in love every other day, which was always a great topic of conversation between the three girls.

"Thanks for asking, Hermione," Oliver said quietly to her, and she couldn't help but smile in response. He was still a handsome wizard, she remembered that quite clearly from school. They hadn't spent a lot of time together in school, but Hermione remembered the beginnings of a girlish crush in the time she watched him play Quidditch.

Other pressing, life-threatening situations eventually overshadowed her girlcrush and her attention was diverted.

She watched as Oliver said something to Ginny that made the girl laugh, reaching over to squeeze his hand afterwards. The love in their gaze made her heart clench. She wanted that - deserved it, even, after all this.

The wizarding world was experiencing a baby boom that seemed to affect everyone except her friends. Why were the Golden Trio so hopelessly inept at love? When would George get the chance to move on? Luna? Neville was the only one with his shit together, surprisingly.

Harry held her elbow briefly, calling her attention. He mouthed 'are you okay' subtly and Hermione nodded, thankful for this wonderful man in her life.

"Harry, dear, are you eating quite well? You need to stop at the burrow more for dinner! Put some meat on those bones," All conversations throughout the table waned out at Molly's words, not wanting to drown out their mother.

Harry chuckled, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, that's kind of you."

"He looks great, Mum, would you stop," George joked, "Mum won't be happy till you're rolling out the door, Harry!"

"At this rate, I wouldn't bet against that," Harry said, rubbing his stomach.

"It really was delicious. Oliver, we heard that you made this, yes?" Fleur asked, leaning forward with interest. She was in the third trimester of her pregnancy and strained to sit closer to the table.

He sat up straight as he was addressed, "Yes, Mrs. Weasley, my Mother was a fine cook and taught me everything I know,"

"Call me Fleur, please," She insisted, "Mrs. Weasley as the head of table."

Chatter began to overtake the singular conversation again, and for a few moments, Hermione allowed herself to enjoy the sounds of her second family laughing, celebrating and exchanging stories. It was sound that she once doubted she'd hear again. The Weasley family had been through hell and back, but here they were, living in this moment again and not in the past.

The next hour passed by without much incident, Harry and George doing their level best to occupy Ron with pleasing anecdotes and tales. Ron worked with George in the joke shop now, and with that territory came the many stories of failed products and humour incidents.

Gradually, Ginny's family began to leave. Percy and Bill's kids were with babysitters that had to be relieved, most likely using their pay to enjoy the rest of the night with friends. George remained behind for the party having been coaxed by both Ron and Ginny into staying.

"Now, the party can begin!" Ginny announced, using her wand to send sparks into the air.

Hermione laughed, magically clearing the table and washing the dishes, "Please do entertain us, Gin."

"I'll refill your glass and leave the entertainment to you, my friend," Ginny said, immediately going to top up everyone's glass.

The next hour saw Hermione greet her old classmates again and again, the polite smile on her face becoming sore with each person that entered the room. It wasn't often they could get so many Hogwarts alumni into one room, it was nice to see. Even if she wasn't the social butterfly of Gryffindor, Hermione could appreciate the loveliness in seeing people she knew at eleven as a fully realised adult.

It was, however, always momentarily odd to her when told they now had kids, and she had to constantly remind herself that was normal.

Hermione was standing with Dean Thomas and Ron as midnight approached, listening intently to the former explain his latest job with rapt attention. Dean had always been a jack of all trades, especially since he was raised in the Muggle world, too. He changed career frequently, but the passion he exuded now seemed to cement this career for him, "So, you sketch for a living now?"

Dean hesitated, "Yeah, but it's so much more than that. I've spent so much time since the war just doing odd jobs, enjoying life, partying, living it up. I wanted to give back in a way, but I never had the grades to be an Auror-"

"Ah, mate, they definitely would have made an exception," Ron was saying.

"I didn't want an exception. I probably wouldn't make a good Auror. But working with the Muggle police to sketch out potential criminals leaves me fulfilled in a way I never imagined. I have some policing experience now, too, obviously. I actually wanted to grab Harry at some point and talk about it,"

Hermione frowned, "Probably not the place, he hates talking work outside the Ministry."

"I figured. I just think it would be great for the Auror department to have someone like me."

"I don't doubt it," Hermione responded swiftly, "But I'd ask him for an appointment and leave it at that."

As if his ears had been burning, Harry appeared beside her, touching the small of her back lightly, "Hey, it's ten minutes till midnight. Should we move to the living room?"

Ron blinked down at his drink, "Ten minutes to midnight, eh…"

"You'll want to hide pretty well if you're going to avoid Ginny's tradition," Dean said with good humour.

"She really has roped everyone in,"

"Scary when she wants to be,"

Ron nodded, "Sure, that's why you're such good friends, Hermione. Everyone else is too afraid to be friends with either of them."

"What about Luna?" Hermione shot back, triumphantly.

"Ah, Luna's not really afraid of anything," Ron replied, and Hermione swore she could hear admiration in his tone.

"I better go find my wife, she'll kill me if I leave her alone for the countdown," Dean lifted his glass in a gesture of cheers, "Happy New Year, guys. Good to see you all together still."

Before any of them could reply, he had set off to the living room. Hermione was studiously avoiding Harry's gaze as the remaining trio trailed into the living room. She was surprised by how cozy it was, she thought Ginny would have magically increased the size of the room to accommodate the numbers. Probably wanted to keep a close eye on everyone, Hermione thought wryly.

Ron began mumbling something unintelligibly and wandered off, leaving Harry and Hermione equally bewildered. "That was odd," He remarked.

"Truly," Hermione agreed, and let out a breath she was holding in, "Okay, so this isn't going to be weird."

"Not at all. What's a kiss between friends?"

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed, feeling emboldened by the several glasses of wine she'd had at this stage, "It's weird though, it's not the way I pictured our first kiss,"

Harry frowned, turning to meet her eyes fully as he asked carefully, "What do you mean, Hermione?"

Oh, god. Had she said that bit out loud? Hermione cursed herself vehemently, feeling a brief intense self-loathing before she stomped it down. Why did she bother drinking? She always let slip stupid things, never able to keep her mouth shut. Hermione needed to have someone screen her drunken words before she said anything.

"Hermione?" Harry persisted and she met his gaze for a second. Big mistake. His eyes were so distracting, so intense in their beauty. Hermione gulped.

"Well - well I just, I just never really thought we'd kiss and if we did I thought it would - I don't know, I thought it would be a big deal."

He seemed perturbed by that thought, and Hermione scrambeld to derail the self-blame Harry train before it left the station, "This is better! Obviously, this is better, Harry. Two people completely comfortable and at ease sharing a simple kiss. Easy."

Liar, she thought.

They had secure boundaries right now. She was safe in the knowledge of not knowing what his lips felt, of not experiencing those green eyes filled with lust staring at her. Hermione feared the possibility that her boundaries would be shattered.

Harry waited a beat and then nodded, "You're right… you're definitely right, I-"

"Harry! I'm so glad to see you," Harry's ex-girlfriend, Vanessa, enthusiastically greeted him and they shared a quick hug. Hermione could see the discomfort in his clenched jaw and tight smile, but he hid it remarkably well.

Vanessa turned to her, "It's good to see you, Hermione. How is Crookshanks?"

It took Hermione a minute to remember that when Vanessa was with Harry, her cat had been quite sick and underwent a couple of operations. The question, supported by a look of true concern on the woman, warmed Hermione's heart, "He's good, thanks for asking. Are you enjoying the night?"

"Absolutely! Ginny always throws the best parties," She said excitedly. Something changed in her eyes as they slid slowly between Harry and Hermione. Vanessa forced a smile again, pushing a hand through her short, blonde hair, "I think the countdown is starting, see you guys later,"

Ginny had introduced Harry to Vanessa, they both played on the same Quidditch team. Hermione had genuinely enjoyed her, which couldn't be said for all of Harry's ex-girlfriends. "I liked her," She commented lightly as the woman strode into the crowd.

Hermione faintly heard them start the 60 second countdown, and tried to ignore the building fluttering in her stomach. She was not nervous. This was nothing. Keep talking.

"What happened between you two, again?" Hermione asked her friend, desperate to keep conversation flowing.

She looked at him and saw that, for the first time tonight, he appeared as rattled as her. Perhaps it was because of the run-in with his ex. Maybe he had changed his mind and wanted to share the midnight kiss with her? Hermione pushed away the sting that came with that thought, and added to her question before he could answer, "If you think you want to get back with her, I won't be hurt if you think it's best to kiss her at midnight. Honestly."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Stop, I don't want to get back with Vanessa. She's great, but.."

"But..?" Hermione continued, always the curious one.

He shrugged, staring at her, searching for words, "I - I just… I guess she wasn't right."

Hermione smiled, "Picky."

"The pickiest," He joked. She saw his eyes widen when suddenly the chanting got louder, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh at it. It felt good; released the tension.

_10… _

"Hermione, I want you to know that I'm glad it's you," The words tumbled out of his mouth, rushed.

_9…._

Hermione's heart melted a little, "I know, Harry, I know."

_8_…

He looked frustrated, "No, I mean.. I'm glad it's you over Vanessa,"

_7_…

"I'm glad it's you over Ron," Hermione laughed a little, "Oh my goodness, is that Ron, Luna _and _Padma?" The three were holding hands, all but Luna appearing nervous.

_6_…

"What is he playing at?" Harry asked, amused, his intensity from a second ago forgotten.

_5_…

"No, I think they both want to kiss Luna." Hermione asserted, remembering that Padma had come out as gay a couple of years ago.

_4_…

Harry looked as if he hadn't heard her, and took her hands in his, "You ready, _mate?" _

_3_…

Hermione grinned at the emphasis - what was a friendly kiss between friends? "As I'll ever be, _pal_."

The two of them joined in, chanting loudly, jubilantly with their friends as they counted down the last three seconds. Amid the cheers and hooting, Hermione barely had time to react before Harry had placed his hands on her face and leaned forward.

Hermione Granger and Harry Potter were kissing.

_Kissing._

It was over in a matter of seconds and Hermione could only blink. It had been rather nice. She had a fluttering in her chest, but there was none of the fireworks she expected. Her mind wasn't spinning, she didn't have an urge to pull him into the nearest bedroom.

Hermione reluctantly met Harry's eyes and it appeared as if he was as disappointed. She couldn't let that hurt her. It was good that they felt mutually disappointed.

She truly couldn't explain the sudden pressure that appeared behind her eyes, or the way her heart sank in her chest and she wanted nothing more than to be alone. Instead, Hermione let out a shaky breath and forced a smile, "Happy New Year, Harry."

Before he could properly respond, Hermione had quickly walked away, aided by the crowd that made it difficult for Harry to follow her. She wasn't even sure he had tried.

Ginny was in the corner of the kitchen, sitting merrily on a counter surrounded by friends. She was animatedly telling a story, but when their eyes met as Hermione entered the room, she immediately excused herself, "Happy New Year," Ginny hugged her, "Why do you look like I just told you Malfoy is here?"

"Never joke about spending time with a Malfoy, Ginny," Hermione said in jest, "I'm fine anyway, I'm going to refill and join you and your adoring public in a minute."

Her friend remained unconvinced, but thankfully let it drop. She flounced back over to finish her tale, scooting up onto the counter and leaning her elbow on Olivers shoulder. Hermione watched them for a minute before searching the kitchen for one of her other friends.

Not _you know who… _wait, no, that sounded like Voldemort. She meant: not the boy-who-lived-to-complicate-her-life.

Hermione found herself downing her glass rather quickly, hoping it would extinguish the feelings simmering below the surface. Why was she disappointed? Could Hermione even be sure that was the feeling? She took a minute to try pinpoint why she was feeling uneasy. There was the strong possibility this was simply a reaction to being with her friend in a different way - change, no matter how fleeting and insignificant - could prompt strong reactions.

It seemed unlikely.

The way her eyes immediately burned and she felt the urge to race home led her to believe Hermione had been disappointed. Why? Likely because she thought it would be better. Simple. No one likes a boring kiss.

Hermione paused. She couldn't quite call the kiss boring - her chest had a funny clenching, whooshing sensation, and her arms tingled to be thrown around him. A kiss between friends.

"Hermione, Happy New Year!" A happy voice greeted her, holding her closely for a minute.

She relaxed upon seeing a mess of blonde, scraggly hair. Luna was determined to ignore fashion trends and swore to back comb her hair til the day she died - in reality, Hermione was sure Luna's latest hair fad would end rather soon. "Happy New Year, Luna. How's your night going?"

"Wonderful. Padma Patil, who you'll remember could be rather rude to me in school, offered me a truly heartfelt apology."

Hermione raised a brow, "How so?"

"I would hate to betray her confidence, but let me say that she was dealing with some things - troubles of the soul, Hermione - and reacted in a forgiveable way. Dramatic, to be truthful, as she was not nearly as bad as others in Ravenclaw."

"It's still nice to hear, and I'm glad for you," Hermione responded genuinely, "Fallen in love with anyone tonight?"

"You and Ginny are just," Luna remarked lightly, "Stone cold. It's not a crime to love freely and without shackles,"

"Luckily for you."

The two girls chuckled at that, and it may have been the drink, but Hermione was momentarily utterly grateful that she and Luna's friendship had blossomed in adulthood. Once you got to know her, the creatures she dreamt up provided great imagination and escapism, not that Hermione ever entertained the possibility of them being real. They still clashed over that to this day.

Most days, Luna was as normal as her other friends. With a few, er, eccentrics, perhaps.

"A little gra told me that you kissed Harry at midnight," Luna began casually, studying the bubbles in her flute glass. "Perhaps you're the one who has fallen in love tonight."

Hermione fought with no success to keep the blush from her face. She would have blushed no matter who they were talking about, she was secretive about this stuff. Honestly, it made no difference that it was Harry. "Let's not get carried away. You know what Harry and I are like,"

"Hmm," She sipped her drink, Hermione mirrored the action, "Indeed we do. If we have to live in your world of reality, Hermione, I should gamble that you've been in love for some time."

She gaped, "I - what? Luna, what are you talking about? And also what on earth is a gra? Did you mean to say bird? You can't just steal muggle phrases, you know,"

"You don't know where the term originated," Luna replied, enjoying her friends reaction, "I'm just having fun, but your reaction was rather telling. What happened?"

Again, it could have been the drink, or it could have been that Hermione trusted Luna with her secrets and most of all, she trusted Luna to be direct with her. Luna had a way of unveiling the unvarnished truth with little fanfare, something Hermione greatly appreciated. She took another large gulp of her drink, "We kissed. It was… well… it was nice."

Luna frowned and repeated slowly, "Nice?"

"Not what you want to hear, right? Me, too. Part of me is inexplicably, hopelessly, dangerously disappointed. Is that crazy? Why am I disappointed?" She could barely keep the desperation from her tone as she questioned her friend, wishing they were in a more private spot. Hermione glanced around and saw Ron was watching them curiously and she quickly turned back to Luna. She did not want him to interpret her look as invitation to join them.

Finally, after some quiet brooding, Luna spoke, "Maybe you're disappointed because you always thought if you and Harry kissed, that would be it." Hermione started to protest this vehemently, but Luna cut in, "Wait, listen for a minute. You have a beautiful friendship, trust each other implicitly, endlessly support each other, spend most weekends and Merlin, when is the last time you went two days without seeing him?"

"We work together," Hermione mumbled defensively, but it sounded weak.

"All you're really missing is the kiss," Luna shrugged, as if this was easy, "And that wasn't so great. Turns out your beautiful friendship is destined to be just that. Which is more than many people ever find."

She stared at her friend for a moment, her constructive words rebounding around in Hermione's head. "I need to get some air," Hermione responded, clinking her glass with Luna's to show no hard feelings as she sped towards Ginny's balcony.

She passed Ron on the way, who had been making his way to them, "Woah, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, thank you," Hermione bit back, trying her best to remain polite. She needed two minutes alone, was that too much to ask? No one to strike up conversation, tell her ridiculous things, make her feel like an idiot.

Hermione took great, deep breaths as soon as she was outside. The balcony was small, fitting two chairs, a patio table and about 5 people before it started to get cramped. The December weather was on Hermione's side as it was blissfully unoccupied out in the cold. She stood to the side so no one could see her through the glass doors.

Feeling silly, Hermione began to give herself a pep talk. She was going to continue her night and have a fantastic time. Nearly everyone she loved was in that flat, which so rarely happened, she needed to take advantage. They might even agree to a game at the end of the night if she played her cards right.

The sliding door opened then and Hermione nearly cursed aloud. Was she asking too much that none of the other occupants use the balcony for ten minutes? Hearing it, Hermione admitted it probably was a bit much to ask.

"Hermione,"

She jolted at the sound of Harry's voice, pushing herself off the wall to see him. Hermione's heart was _not _racing. She was just… cold.. Yes. Cold. "Oh. Hey, Harry. Good night?"

He looked unfocused, like his brain was racing to solve a problem or make a plan. Hermione had seen that look quite a few times. He was energized and poised to say something. His eyes weren't meeting hers, as much as she tried, they roamed out and over the fields behind the flat. Hermione felt herself become worried; had they destroyed their friendship?

Ignoring her question, Harry spoke quickly, as if the words were spilling out of his mouth unbidden, "It wasn't supposed to be like that."

Confused; "Harry, what do you mean? I-"

"Our kiss. You were right, it wasn't meant to be that, some distraction or game to deter other people," Harry ran a hand through his hair, frustrated, "I shouldn't have said that."

"People kiss for worse reasons," She commented, her tone dry.

He glanced up at her then, earnest and nervous for reasons she didn't understand. Green eyes captured hers, almost willing her to understand, "I should have told you the truth...God, Hermione, no matter who was in that room tonight, the only person I wanted to kiss is you."

Her mouth fell open. What?

Sensing her inability to respond, Harry rambled on, "I've tried for so long to ignore it and avoid but, honestly, Hermione, I don't think there's anyone else for me. You want to know why things don't work with Vanessa? Kate? _Ginny? _They're not you."

Her mind was blank, unable to process what was happening. "Please say something. I'm sorry, I don't mean to make things awkward, but I thought you were equally wanting more earlier and - and I couldn't not take the chance to know if you felt the same. If you don't feel the same way," He let out a shaky laugh, "Our friendship will survive it."

Silence reigned.

Hermione couldn't believe this was happening. This was Harry, her Harry, her best friend of 14 years, interested in her. She had definitely drank too much and was hallucinating. Right? This had to be a dream.

She looked back at him, biting her lip as she contemplated his words. Harry wanted her. The kiss earlier was nice but stitled. Maybe that was because it wasn't supposed to be that way.

Try as she might, Hermione couldn't ignore how her heart soared at his words, or how she could finally acknowledge what she had been trying to avoid for months. Hermione fancied Harry, she absolutely did.

"Hermione?"

"You.. you want me?"

"Desperately," He replied without hesitation.

Feeling emboldened, Hermione stepped forward and placed her hands on his chest. She felt his shaky exhale, his effort to expel nerves, and Hermione tried to do the same, "I like you, too, Harry," She whispered. Inwardly, Hermione wanted to laugh - they were grown adults, old friends, whispering secretively on a balcony about _liking _each other, as if they were back in Hogwarts.

That was all the thinking Hermione had time for before Harry's lips were on hers, his arms snaking around her waist. He was tentative at first, soft, but when Hermione wound her hands into his hair and pulled him closer, Harry immediately responded in kind and tightened his hold. Hermione let out a small sound of pleasure at the feeling of how his arm fit entirely around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

As if sensing each other, both opened their mouths to deepen the kiss and things grew more frantic. Hermione couldn't touch enough of him, couldn't feel enough of his skin and god, why couldn't she get closer? He flipped them suddenly, and Hermione gasped in surprise, finding herself pressed against the wall.

He began the descened to her lips again, but stopped just short, making Hermione moan a little in dismay. Harry teased her gently for a minute, nipping at her lips, before he quipped, "Not disappointed this time, Hermione?"

She grinned, "I'm not sure, we might have to try a couple more times,"

"I demand a date if you're going to take such liberties with me," Harry was still holding her closely, tightly, and Hermione reveled in his touch. She admired his eyes, mere inches away, beaming even in the darkness of the night.

"Tomorrow night? I'll even bring you to the movies, if you're lucky."

"I definitely am."

He kissed her again and Hermione realised she was going to have to reevaluate her entire definition of the word disappointment and New Years Eve.

* * *

A/N: A kind of fluffy, light post-war piece. I so rarely think of post-war as a light time but I really like the idea of the trio and friends being able to be young for once.

Please let me know what you think, it's my first time writing HHr in a non-angsty way.

Thanks for reading anyway!

CR.


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